


|Nightmare|

by DragoonHooman



Series: Oneshots/Short stories of Minecraft [2]
Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA, Alternate Universe, Dream SMP Ensemble Angst, Dream Team SMP Roleplay (Video Blogging RPF), DreamsmpTriocontent, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Glitches, LittleNightmares, Monsters, Nightmares, Pogtopia, beware of angst, mute!Fundy, mute!Slimecicle, noswears
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-12
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-19 07:08:36
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,549
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29995737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragoonHooman/pseuds/DragoonHooman
Summary: In which a small group comes across a secret room hidden behind things far bigger than things should normally be. They find something more than helpful,Something that can help them survive,Something that can wake them from a Nightmare.
Relationships: No Romantic Relationship(s)
Series: Oneshots/Short stories of Minecraft [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2206473
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. Beginning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which a Nightmares begins...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is going to extend into a seven-part short story :)   
> No main character development, instead an au of my own making.  
> As for updates, it'll be The Red City, then this one. Taking turns

**_|Nightmare|_ **

**_In which a small group comes across a secret room hidden behind things far bigger than things should normally be. They find something more than helpful,_ **

**_Something that can help them survive,_ **

**_Something that can wake them from a Nightmare._ **

**_____________________________ **

Tommy jolted awake, breathing heavily. He was having a nightmare, one where thousands of bulging eyes glared down at him from a fleshy wall. He sat on a chair, where he was bound by rope and chains, he had struggled in the beginning, then realized he wouldn’t be able to get out, and stopped, succumbing to the gazes of eyes.

He was greeted by painted walls, its patterns almost peeled off, revealing tally marks, scratched frantically around the room. A dagger lay abandoned on the ground, gauze wrapped around its hilt. Chairs much larger than himself sat around piled boxes. An open window brought in wind colder than ice and showed the dense forest that surrounded the land. Tommy felt a soft cushion below his body, a pile of clothes folded up inside the gaping mouth of a suitcase.

All of his surroundings were unrecognizable, as Tommy had never seen any of these things before. The last thing he remembered was going to bed in his room, after playing a few games with his brothers. This room looked similar to his own, but the colors and paintings were all distorted, containing horrifying images of people with contorted body parts and bulging eyes. 

Terror and fear froze him, and Tommy sat down, hugging his knees close to his chest. He just wanted to go home, but where was his home? What had brought him to this hellscape? Why had everything turned nightmarish and large?

Then he heard a glitched greeting of a child, mixed with light static. Tommy looked up, meeting the gaze of a young boy wearing glasses, emerald green eyes looking at him hopefully. He wore a white shirt with three pixelated hearts, the last with one half darkened, with a line of text labeled “So yeah. I’m a gamer”. His body seemed to glitch out at random, turning darker and more like a shadow. 

“Charlie?” Tommy asked, recognizing his friend. “What… happened to you?”

Charlie nodded, then shook his head, not wanting to share his own experiences. “What are you doing here?” Tommy questioned. Charlie shrugged, not knowing the answer himself. He wondered why his normally talkative friend was being uncharacteristically silent. “Why are you so quiet?” 

Charlie pointed to his mouth, then made a motion similar to closing a zipper. He made another noise, slightly distorted but sounded a lot like “hard”. His friend had become mute, unable to speak in clear sentences and words, only responding with a hum or a yelp. 

Tommy’s fear expanded ten-fold, now he was stuck with his mute friend, in an unfamiliar environment. Charlie sensed his distress and gave a reassuring pat on the back, before holding out his hand. It was as if he was saying “Come, I need to show you something.” Hesitantly, Tommy took it, allowing himself to be pulled up and let out the window, climbing the boxes.

The two fell into a patch of grass, tall enough to reach Tommy’s chest. They went over to a hobbit hole-looking house, hidden behind walls of foliage. He looked behind him, seeing that they were on a giant hill overlooking plains with houses Tommy could barely spot with all the darkness surrounding him. 

Charlie opened the door, nervously looking around, his glitches becoming more frequent.

Inside the hut gave Tommy a sense of comfort, which he gratefully welcomed. A campfire was lit in the middle of the room, roasting what seemed to be a rat. Two piles of cloth lay straightened on the ground, providing a soft seating. Eight tally marks were scratched on the wall, below the word “Months.” Another side of the wall was completely covered in tally marks, under the label “Days” He wondered if Charlie was the one who made those marks, and a wave of pity washed over him. If this were a nightmare-like place, one where time worked differently, then those months must’ve felt so real. 

Three children sat around the campfire, one tending to the rat, the other two watching. 

The first wore a black jacket with four different colored stripes at the edges and a black hat covering reddish-brown hair. He glitched in a similar timing with Charlie, making static noises as he tried to speak. Tommy recognized him as Fundy, the child his older brother Wilbur had brought in with Phil one day to foster, claiming he was his child. They adopted Fundy a month after, where he spent most of his days following Wilbur around like a lost puppy. He was much smarter for his age though, knowing basic coding and computer skills. 

The second child wore a green coat and had a brown satchel on his lap, while the third wore a black button down shirt and a black and white bandana, a paper crown on his head. Tommy recognized those two as his closest friends, Tubbo and Ranboo. Fortunately, unlike Charlie and Fundy, the two weren’t glitching at all and seemed to be in a conversation of their own. 

“Tubbo!” Tommy shouted, ecstatic. Tubbo turned, his eyes lighting up. “Tommy!” He shouted back, standing and breaking into a run towards his best friend. “Ranboo!” Tommy shouted again, grinning at his tall friend. Ranboo grinned back, also breaking into a run. The three of them went into a group hug, laughing happily. 

“How did you get here?” He asked, a mix of relief, excitement, and fear. “How did you?” Tubbo asked, clasping his hands and shaking them. “I asked first!” Tommy said. “I was just outside this place, inside a log!”

“Then Ranboo-remember him? Then Ranboo opened the door and- and Fundy! Why can't he talk? Do you know? Then Fundy caught a rat! And started to cook it! Is he okay? Tommy everything is so confusing! Fundy started glitching at some point and cried! Why is everything so strange?” Tubbo stumbled over his own words, recounting a story Tommy could barely catch up with. “I was in a cupboard!” Ranboo added.

Fundy put one finger to his lips, shushing them. He patted the cloth behind them, gesturing for the three to sit. He then pulled out a thick journal, barely containing all the papers inside and pushed it onto Tommy’s lap. Charlie sat on Fundy’s other side, patting the book. “Oi!” He whispered.

Tommy swept off the dust, removing the dirt and bugs that thrived on its leathery cover. There was no title, nor was there an illustrated cover, unlike the books Tommy had seen in his home. He opened the book to its first page, revealing large, handwritten text.

“ _ First things first. Hello to whoever’s reading this! If you’re wondering what my name is, it’s Fundy :) _ ” Tommy read, moving closer to the fire. Fundy smiled, looking at the smiley face wistfully. 

“ _ Anyways, if you’re reading this, then I’m probably dead or one of those… things. You may be wondering exactly what are those things I’m talking about, so I’m going to summarize it for you. _

_ This world is a Nightmare, but don’t think about waking up, you can’t. Something is trapping us here, either killing us with its monsters, or distorting us into one of them… A fate worse than death if you ask me. Just imagine that, becoming so contorted and destructive as the ones you may have seen, whether it be in pictures or in reality. _

_ So far I’ve found none of them, not physically at least. One of them haunts my thoughts every day, with a bandaged face and a sadistic grin. Hopefully I live long enough to draw and defeat these nightmares, so that this world finally wakes up.” _ The second half of the page was written more messily.

**_“Present day Fundy here, be careful of the eyes, they track you everywhere you go, alerting everything of your presence. Please, they’ll kill you once you’re seen,they did that to me and to Charlie, who’s found another set of three monsters._ ** _ ” _ Tubbo began to look at both static children, who refused to make eye contact with the rest.  _ “ _ **_Either you die a hero, or live long enough to see yourself become the villain I guess._ ** _ ”  _

_ Tommy flipped the page, revealing a drawing of a tall man, but nothing about him looked human.  _

_ Bandages were wrapped around his face, covering his eyes and upper half of his head. Long hair overlapped the bandages, the front of it reaching his shoulders while the back reached his upper chest, tied into a single braid. He wore a long fur coat, torn and ripped in the lower parts. A long sword was held in his right hand, while tusk-like spines jutted from his head, forming a crown. The skeletal remains of bodies lay behind him like servants or followers.  _

_ “They call him the Blood God, or at least, that’s what the writings on the wall told me. I’ve never encountered him up close, only watching from a distance. An excellent swordsman he is, dueling his followers or disciples. When he wasn’t sparring, I once saw him nailing the emptied carcass of a cow on the walls of his house, licking the blood that dripped from the livestock’s wounds. Gross. _

_ He is also sometimes seen herding a group of wolves, teeth bloody and bared furiously. They never attacked him, acting like puppies whenever he was around. _

_ His disciples on the other hand, once they see or hear something alive, they begin to let out a high pitched wail, alerting the Blood God. They also try to tear anything they can catch, ripping it into shreds and bottling up its blood.” _

The next page contained a man with broken wings, muscle and bone emerging from the torn patches of feathers. He looked more bird-like than the first, with talon-like legs and nails sharper than glass. He wore an outfit reminiscent of a traditional Japanese style. 

“ _ I call him The Adventurer, after I found photos of various places in his home. He might’ve flown around this world before everything happened. He could’ve been drawn to this place somehow, then… became this. _

_ I haven’t seen much of him in action, but he seems to accompany the Blood God several times. He seems less of a major monster, but if you take anything from his home, he will engage in a cat and mouse chase throughout this area, until you return i _ t.”

The third page contained a drawing of the most human-looking person so far. A wave of hair covered the left half of his face, while the right side revealed an eye with an insane glint. His mouth was twisted into one similar to the comedy and tragedy masks of theatre, half grinning while the other frowning. He wore a coat and had bandages wrapped around his arms and neck. Darkened figures were positioned behind him, under stage lights.

Fundy looked particularly more distressed at this one, making panicked noises and covering his eyes, glitching violently.

“ _ He’s the only one with a name before I came along, posters calling him “The Thespian” A performer by heart, although his theatre has been empty for what looks like years.  _

_ He doesn’t like it when someone interrupts his performance and begins to take control of his lair, changing the sets and throwing props around. He’ll turn off the lights at random and blow up certain spots, having an addiction to explosives and fire. _

_ His ensemble, the supporting cast stroll the empty halls and corridors of the theatre. They’ll try to grab you and bring you to the Thespian like an offering, where he’ll gladly take you and burn you at the stake. _ ”

The fourth page showed a drawing of a man covering his face with a gas mask. He wore black armor covering most of his body. The skin that showed looked scaly and rough and he held a trident, sharp enough to stab Tommy with complete and utter ease. 

“ _ Charlie calls him the warden, after finding him in some kind of black pyramid-looking prison. He claims that there was no evidence of a prisoner ever being there, but the warden makes his rounds in a pattern similar to a prison warden. He seems to be looking for something…  _

_ He can’t see very well but his hearing is amazing, squishing flies mid-air but he’s easily distracted by the sound of a blaring alarm, following the noise. He has some kind of device teleporting him to various areas at once, and mostly traverses through tunnels and secret passageways. If he catches you, then… let’s just hope you weren’t speared by his trident. _ ” At this, Charlie looked away, avoiding their gaze.

The fifth was female, with ram horns curling and piercing her eyes. She wore a captain’s attire, as if ready to sail the seven seas. Sheep-like ears poked from gaps in her curly hair, one ripped and torn from the middle.

“ _ She’s like a guardian of some kind, but we don’t know who she guards. It seems like the answer is no one, but obviously someone used to accompany her, because her movements always seem desperate, like she was trying to find someone.  _

_ Charlie says it's like a game of hide and seek and that if she finds you, she’ll bring you into a deadly embrace, literally killing you with kindness. _ ” 

The sixth page had no detailed drawing, just a wide smiley face, with words saying “ _ NO _ ”

The following pages held no detailed information in particular, just conversations that could never be put into words. “ _ What’s your name? _ ” “ _ Will we be trapped here? _ ” Along with drawings of more eyes and people with scratched out faces, dying or facing death.

“I think I just got sadder,” Ranboo murmured, tracing the drawings with his hand. “It won’t change where we are though…” Tommy said, closing the book.

“Then we can get out ourselves! We have all the information here, and if Fundy and Slime have been here for a long time, then they can help us defeat these monsters!” Tubbo said, motivation evident in his voice. Charlie took the book, and flipped to an empty page, writing something with charcoal. “ _ We can’t really defeat them ourselves, but we’ll show you where to go and help with whatever’s in your way if you choose to take that path. _ ”

Tommy and Ranboo looked at one another, then back to the others, agreeing with Tubbo’s plan.

If they really wanted to escape, then hiding wouldn’t even make a dent. They needed to move, fight back, and fight hard enough to wake up.

  
**To wake up from their Nightmare** .


	2. The Blood God

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A Fighter with no one to fight for...

**_|The Blood God|_ **

**_A fighter with no one to fight for..._ **

**_____________________________ **

It was only when he stepped out of the house, Tubbo noticed that it was night. He had been so distracted in the size of everything and looking for shelter that he never even looked at the sky. Although even then, the atmosphere was so foggy and the sky barely seen through a canopy of thick trees. 

Blades of grass scratched his ankles as they traversed through the forest, jumping over mud puddles and kicking small pebbles. Empty cans were littered around the ground like stars in the sky, each labeled with an eye. 

They had left the book at the hole, as it was far too heavy for them to carry, but they did bring a load of bread loaves packed in Tubbo’s satchel and Charlie’s backpack. Along with cooked rat that he hoped he never needed to eat. 

As the shadow of a house slowly emerged from the fog, the wretched and rotten smell of death grew stronger. Flies began to buzz around Tubbo’s ear, trying to land on him. He tried swatting them away but they just kept returning, lingering like the smell.

He found the sources of the smell. Long dead corpses of animals lay limply on the ground, spilling out what seemed to be its innards. Maggots popped out from the corpses, like a rabbit from a burrow. Some hung from traps hoisted onto tree branches, while others had their body parts scattered around, torn apart by something much larger. 

Tubbo wrinkled his nose, what kind of person would do something like this? Leave dead animals around like trash, just for fun’s sake? 

“I know there are people out there who kill things for fun, but never have I ever seen the effect.” Tommy spat, moving far out of reach from the corpses. “It’s all a waste too,” Ranboo said. “Most of the animals here could feed someone till the day they die. Instead whoever did this just let them rot and decompose.”

Tubbo felt a cold chill go down his body. The house’s shadow began to loom over them. He could hear booming footsteps inside, the sound of something sharpening, something slamming against wood, strange languages and whispers, and wolves howling. Tubbo wondered if he would end up a rotten corpse, or maybe like the cow described in the book, nailed to the wall as a display.

A dead horse was propped up by a fenced stable, where an old sign had the name “Carl” written on it. Bottles filled with blood were left around the stairs, either half full, full, or barely even filled.

“Why would you even bottle up blood? What do you even do with it?” Tubbo asked. “Maybe he’s a vampire.” Ranboo whispered. “Or someone who needs to be in an insane asylum…” Tommy muttered.

Fundy climbed up one of the boxes, gesturing for them to follow. He said-well… wrote that this was the only way to get to the community house, which supposedly would bring them all home. If they went any other path, they would’ve been transported back to where they started. This world intended for them to only take one path, that path being the most deadly and least-wanted path.

They then snuck into the house, entering a window decorated with dried blood. Paintings were hung on the walls, showing contorted images of humans with no facial features, their flesh knitted or stitched together, children with cracked faces and emotionless eyes, and a thin man sitting on a wooden chair. Chests and barrels each labeled with words like “wood” or “iron” Some kind of green gem glittered, piled to the brim in silver bowls. Text written in blood bled down walls, all saying the same message.

“Blood For The Blood God.”

Tubbo landed on a fur rug resembling a polar bear, its gaping mouth holding razor-sharp teeth. A name tag was tied to its jaw, labeled “Steve”

“This is a serial killer’s dream home,” Tommy said, falling onto the ground with a thud. 

The sound of footsteps began to grow louder and louder, approaching the group with haste. Charlie shoved Tubbo into one of the open barrels, before climbing into an open chest with Tommy. Fundy buried himself in a pile of cloth, while Ranboo hid with Tubbo, both squished with coins. 

He caught sight of a pair of legs walking past him. They were rotten and smelled so rancid and eye-watering Tubbo fought the urge to throw up. Skin peeled from the bone, maggots feeding on the dead flesh, light droplets of blood landed on the rug, causing Steve’s already dirty fur to assume the look of bleeding.

Tubbo waited until the footsteps faded away, then hastily ran out to puke. He heard Ranboo retch behind him but he didn’t know whether the cause was because he threw up, or because of the walking corpse. Tubbo assumed it was both. 

Tommy poked his head out, wrinkling his nose. “What the heck was that smell?” he asked. “Dead people,” Tubbo replied, leaning on the wall for support. “So that’s what they smell like. I never want to die now, that smelled horrible.” Ranboo said, covering his mouth and nose with his bandana. Fundy popped out of his hiding place and walked over to Tubbo, pulling out his hand and tracing letters.

“D-I-S-C-I-P-L-E-S T-H-E-R-E-'-S M-O-R-E”

“There’s more!” Tubbo yelped, voice laced in disbelief. Fundy slapped his arm, shushing him. “Sorry,” he whispered. “There’s  _ more _ ?!”

“O-F C-O-U-R-S-E T-H-E-R-E-’-S M-O-R-E”

“Do you know how to distract them?” 

“T-H-E-R-E I-S A R-E-A-S-O-N T-H-E-Y W-O-R-S-H-I-P T-H-E B-L-O-O-D G-O-D”

“But where do we get all the blood?” 

Fundy raised his eyebrow. “S-E-R-I-O-U-S-L-Y-?”

Tubbo remembered the bottles outside. “Oh,” he mouthed. 

Charlie began to drop down a few vials of blood, each landing softly on the carpet. Quickly, Tubbo ran over, picking them up and carefully sliding them into his satchel. Hopefully, the vials wouldn’t leak and ruin the bread.

More footsteps, this time hurried and distressed. Without any time to run, Tubbo turned face to face with a zombie. Its body badly mutilated, legs stuck in abnormal angles, arms hanging loosely at its sides, and a face so horrifying and disgusting Tubbo couldn’t put it into words. They made eye contact, then it opened its mouth.

And  _ screamed _ .

A wail that could shatter windows in its wake. A screech higher than a skyscraper. An alarm to the rest of the house’s inhabitants.

“Run!” Tommy shouted, bolting in the other direction. Tubbo grabbed Ranboo’s hand and followed. The footsteps began to multiply, that thing was giving into a chase, and it was adding its friends into the equation. “I THOUGHT ZOMBIES WERE SLOW?!” Ranboo shouted, clutching onto Tubbo’s hand like a chain. “APPARENTLY NOT THESE ONES!” Tubbo answered, using his free hand to rummage through his bag.

“Where- Where is it!” He hissed, before pulling out a vial. Tubbo quickly threw it at the nearest zombie, the glass and blood spilling onto the running dead. 

In a heartbeat, the rest of the zombies pounced on the bloody one, tearing it apart and completely destroying the corpse. Like ravenous sharks, the undead smelled the fresh scent of spilled blood and locked onto the owner. 

“THAT SHOULD BUY US SOME TIME!” Tubbo yelled, readying another vial just in case. “THERE ARE ZOMBIE VAMPIRES IN THIS HOUSE HOLY-DUCK!” Tommy slid under a gap in a small stool, directly into a smaller tunnel. “INCOMING!” Ranboo warned, as the two followed Tommy’s lead. Charlie and Fundy soon followed, the former barricading the tunnel with a large box. 

“Oh my-” Ranboo didn’t finish his sentence, and he could see why. 

The secret tunnel led to a room, where, unlike the rest of the home, didn’t even have a spot of dirt. White walls without any stain, except for two painted handprints, both colored pink but in a different size. A perfectly made bed, completely clean and free of dust. No cobwebs, no blood, not even the smell of death, replaced with the smell of lavenders. A vase filled with striped and yellow carnations, thriving with bright colors. Child-drawn pictures were stuck to the wall, some doodles of dogs and horses, others with stick people. One particularly large picture, showed an arena setting with a pink stick person fighting a green stick person. There was only one photo hung on the walls, held in a polished wooden frame. It showed a teenager and a little girl, both with features so alike Tubbo assumed they were brother and sister. Both had a smile on their face, although the girl’s grin was much wider than her brother’s, who’s smile was shy but just as loving as his sister’s. 

“The fact that this room looks so untouched makes all this so sad. It’s like trying to preserve something in time, make it look perfect, remembering something long gone.” Ranboo murmured. “Have you seen this place before?” Tubbo asked, looking at Fundy. 

Fundy shook his head, holding out Tubbo’s hand to say something. “N-E-V-E-R S-A-W T-H-I-S I O-N-L-Y W-A-T-C-H-E-D F-R-O-M A D-I-S-T-A-N-C-E” 

Just then, Tubbo heard yelling from another room, then the sounds of hooves approaching. Panicked, Tubbo whisper-shouted “Hide!” to his friends, before crawling under the table. A bookshelf slid open to reveal a pair of hoofed feet. A small axe was kicked to the side of the room, silver blade shining. 

“The hell man?!” A voice yelled. Tubbo couldn’t see the speaker but he could tell whoever was shouting was struggling against something, as grunts were heard in-between the one sided argument. “Don’t look at me like that!” He hissed. “You wanna fight?! I came all this way to murder you, you know why?” His voice dropped to a deadly whisper.    
  
“Because if gods can bleed, gods can  die .”

Tubbo covered his mouth to muffle a gasp. This speaker was being really determined, to kill- Holy cow- was this kid cursing out the Blood God? That-woah. 

There was a growling noise, raspy and monotone, clearly annoyed at the speaker. Then, slowly but surely, the struggling stopped, the shouts ceased and… 

A life was silenced. 

Tubbo held back silent tears for someone he saw so quickly, die just as fast. This nightmare was much more real now, one where not just he and his friends could die, but children who also found themselves in this world. The Blood God left the room, sliding the bookshelf back to its original position. 

He waited for the footsteps to fade, before leaving his hiding place. “I saw the whole thing…” Ranboo said. “I hid in the bookshelf and… watched. I could’ve-no-should’ve done something, anything, but I didn’t. I saw the blood drain from his body, I-I saw him die! And I know he saw me too! He-we made eye-contact and-” Tubbo pulled him into a hug. “It’s not your fault,” He said reassuringly. “You were scared, and you didn’t do anything, that’s fine, what’s done is done.”

Tubbo turned at the sound of a yelp, seeing Tommy stare at something. 

That something was a child, one completely monochromatic and humming with a light static. His right eye was glitched out and he shook uncontrollably, making indistinct noises. Tommy held out his hand to the static child but when Tubbo blinked, the child was gone, and Tommy was left alone with a shocked expression. “I- He- What-” He stuttered, making multiple confused hand gestures. 

_ Probably just a hallucination, shock. _ Tubbo thought, turning away. They still needed to get out of this place, after taking a key from somewhere in this house. Best to get out before grief overtakes them all like the plague. “Come on,” He said, trying to change the subject. “We should go, we can climb the bookshelf and go through that open space up there.” He faced the three behind him and fought off the similarities between two of his slightly static friends. 

He climbed up the shelf and after having some books fall off, he finally lifted himself onto the hole in the wall. “Finally-oh come on!” Tubbo hissed, looking down. 

The ground below was full with the walking dead, raspy groans filling the air. The only way out was a few strategically placed lights that Tubbo could jump onto to get into another room. Taking a deep breath, he jumped onto the first lamp. 

Heads turning at the noise, the zombies began to aggressively reach their hands towards the lights, trying to grab Tubbo as he hurriedly lept from lamp to lamp, his friends following along. 

After landing into the vent on the other side, Tubbo uncapped his second blood vial, spilling the contents onto an unsuspecting zombie. Surprisingly, it was not just the other zombies who pounced the bloody one, but the bloody zombie began to tear at its own  _ face _ . Turning away from the bloody sight, Tubbo crawled through the vents, ignoring the screams behind him. 

The vent led to an open room, where Tubbo could see the Blood God write something down on an open journal. Illustrations of an eye filled a whole page and he could see a sword hanging from the desk’s side. 

Looking closely at the monster, Tubbo could see in detail how sharp and detailed the horns around his head. Each was detailed in intricate patterns and had jewels embedded into the center, sparkling and shining in the light. 

Something else was caught in the light, something golden, and small enough for Tubbo to hold. A key small enough to open a lock of the same size hanging from a closed window. 

A key hanging from the Blood God’s neck. Tubbo’s heart dropped, it just had to be there, in the most dangerous spot of all places. He wanted to run away, go somewhere safe, but he knew that in this nightmare he was in, nothing here is safe. 

Turning his head, Tubbo mouthed a few words to his friends. “I’m going to get down there, grab the axe on the ground, chop the key off his neck, unlock the lock, and open the window for us to escape.”

“How are you going to survive him?!” Ranboo mouthed back. “No idea, best case scenario, we all live, worst case, we all do. Yolo.”

Tubbo jumped down.

The Blood God’s gaze snapped to him and although Tubbo couldn’t see his face, he could feel the glare of those unseeing eyes. The monster slammed his hand onto the desk, Tubbo barely escaping with the axe in his hands. 

They went into a twisted game of whack-a-mole for a while, with the nightmare grabbing his sword and trying to slice Tubbo, while the former had a narrow escape. He felt himself grow tired, and knew that if he kept fighting, he’d die. Then something clicked in his mind. 

The monster can’t see, but he can hear the axe drag across the wood, he’d followed the noise-

_ Slam _ .

Then he would move his hand a few inches forward, and slam it down.

_ Slam _ . Tubbo quickly turned and slammed the axe on the monster’s hand, slicing off a whole set of fingers. Blood flooded out of the severed body parts, and the Blood God gave a yell of distress, clutching his hand tightly. In that moment, Tubbo yanked the key off and ran to the window, unlocking it and running out. 

He just escaped. Holy cow, he’s alive. He’s not dead. He’s not dead.

“I’M NOT DEAD!” Tubbo exclaimed, pumping his fist in the air. “TUBBO THAT WAS AMAZING!” Tommy yelled, catching up to his friend. Ranboo let out a shout of joy and although no one heard, Fundy and Charlie had a wide smile on their faces. 

“One down, five more to go!” Tubbo cheered, holding out the key victoriously. “Wait, wait, wait, didn’t the book say there were dogs?” Ranboo asked.

On cue, the howls of wolves boomed from the forest, running to avenge their master. “RUN! NOT GETTING RABIES TODAY!” Tommy shouted, giving the house behind him a gesture anyone could understand. 

Despite all the chaos, Tubbo let himself smile. He was alive, and since the first mission went that well then… 

How hard could the rest be?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my defense, I haven't killed Floof


	3. The Adventurer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> |The Adventurer|
> 
> An Adventurer bound to this world, his home longs for places unexplored. He clings to these items like memories, and a single thing out of place would send a dagger at your throat.

___________________________

Ranboo pushed every object he saw in front of a tall wooden door. They ran into a shed to escape the wolves and as he barricaded the only entrance, he contemplated how they were going to escape.

There were no other ways to get in, meaning there were no other ways to get out. Ranboo could hear the wolves behind all the wood, their panting and growling, their claws scratching the wood aggressively. This safehouse wouldn’t hold for long, eventually the walls would tumble down and the last thing he’d see would be the bloody teeth of a canine.

“Ranboo look!” Tubbo said, shaking him out of his panic. “It’s a tunnel! We can go in the dogs won’t follow!” He pointed at a small hole in the ground.

Ranboo let out a sigh of relief, there was some small chance of escape. He may have no idea on what he was getting into, but it was better than getting chewed on.

Jumping down the hole, Ranboo landed on a mattress, cushioning his fall. “Well,” he muttered, looking up “We’ll need to find a new way out. Tubbo landed beside him, almost using Tommy as a crash pad. “Rather have this than dead.” he said.

Ranboo looked at the place the hole led them to. Stone bricks lay in abandoned piles, drawings and paintings on the floor colored with a rainbow palette. A complete contrast to the world above, bright colors streaked the floor like a pathway, leading them to some kind of makeshift castle, built with cardboard boxes painted in shades of gray with purple, blue, and pink coloring the floor. Painted-on clouds colored a painted-on sky on its walls. It was like a safe haven here, one with a colorful world.

Could someone have lived here or at least, used to live here? Maybe the owner left to get something, food perhaps? Yet, the place had an aura of abandonment, like someone left in a rush, aiming to come back, but never was able to.

Ranboo noticed that some of the drawings were fully colored, while most were left as sketches. He saw a tall, thin man behind a tv, a woman wearing a white mask gazing at a mirror, a girl in a yellow raincoat with a small braid peaking out, a boy with a chain attached to his leg, a second girl in a yellow raincoat, this time without the braid, a boy with a paper bag over his head, a toddler with a blindfold, a boy holding a lollipop, a redheaded girl with a nosebleed, a child covered in sheets, a creature wearing a pointed hat, no face in sight.

Then there were the more strange drawings. A long-necked teacher with an unsettling grin, a man with sagging eyes and skin, a man wearing a sack over his head with a gun in his hands, men and women with bulging stomachs and wicked faces, twin chefs whose skin was peeling off, a woman whose head poked out of water, a man with arms longer than snakes, and a music box with an eye painted on its center.

Whoever lived here had seen things no one should ever see,things that could’ve come straight out of a horror movie.

Things that looked eerily similar to the monster Ranboo saw in the world above. He wondered if all these people in the drawings also resided in this world, he then began to ask how the artist saw these things and how long the artist must’ve spent near those things, observing and risking their own life to draw these.

He wondered if the artist risked their life here.

Ranboo’s eyes trailed to a sketched outline of a figure all too familiar, one he saw in a grayscale version in a book. This was a sketch of the Adventurer, except half-colored, half left alone. The last streak of color was completely out of the lines, as if the artist had to abruptly leave the drawing.

“Oh my god,” He heard Tommy mutter, but Ranboo didn’t look to see what he meant, lost in his thoughts. He knew the adventurer was a neutral monster according to Fundy, unless of course you stole his stuff. If the artist stole something from the adventurer… then…

He’ll steal something back.

Ranboo stood still, holding the drawing in his hands. Perhaps that’s why they never saw the Adventurer yet, someone must’ve distracted him… Someone stole something, but what did they steal?

A feather slowly glided to the ground, white at its tip and scorch marks at the edges. Ranboo’s eyes widened as he looked up to face a hole in the ceiling, where a rope soon fell and something was making its way down.

The last thing he saw was a flash of pink and brown before he was shoved into a box.

______________________________________________________________________

Niki ran to another corner of the room, hiding behind a support beam. She tried to calm herself down, muttering breathing exercises under her breath.

Whoever was standing there, just stuck in thought, was being a complete idiot. Didn’t he hear the sound of a rope falling down? She shoved him into a wooden crate, where she saw one of his accomplices stare absentmindedly at the ground. Hopefully the other one she saw would jump in too. Niki knew that the other two children, the ones with static glitches clinging to their clothes, would be fine.

No Nightmare would attack a child who was already dead.

Niki heard the hard footsteps of The Adventurer behind her, he wasn’t in the mood to show any form of mercy to any living being. She glanced back, catching a glimpse of a dagger tainted in blood.

Her heart dropped, so he had been caught while gathering water. Niki knew she should’ve stopped him the moment they heard the distressed scream of a bird. An obvious sign they weren’t safe, a sign that someone was out for blood. She didn’t know what angered the Adventurer, but it must’ve been bad enough to make him kill.

She looked back, seeing that the Adventurer had picked up the box and carried it up to the world above. Niki internally slapped herself, of course he sensed the light scuffle inside the crate, and brought it somewhere.

Niki knew they wouldn’t die, not yet at least. He was taking them to the same place she saw Fundy die, a place with lights and music and burning flames. A place where they would be put in the center stage, every light aimed at them. Colors flash brightly and words are sung by the inhabitants, but don’t let the welcoming aura of the place get to you. It was all just a show after all, just lively characters played by shadowy husks of death.

Niki hoped they’d survive, she hoped Fundy would help them in spirit, she hoped no one would end up tied to a wooden pole then burnt alive.

“Break a leg you guys,” she murmured, closing her eyes and falling to the floor.

Her mind became filled with the images from her drawings, moving and shifting constantly. She saw a little triangle-headed creatures she called nomes pass coal into an engine. She saw a girl in a yellow raincoat fall from a cliff. She saw a child pushing a television into water. She saw Six (Niki named her after seeing her six times in a row) ravenously devour a grown woman. She saw a boy in a brown coat sit on a chair alone, tears falling down his face.

Whenever Niki closed her eyes, she began to feel as if she were watching a movie. Wordless stories across her mind from people she never knew. Then she’d wake up and draw the people she saw, a way to calm herself, she assumed.

An idea struck her mind like a flame on a candle.

She’s already survived the first three of this big nightmare. Why not defeat the rest? She’ll be able to free everyone before more people die.

“For Quackity,” She muttered, fiddling with her bracelet. “For Fundy,” She declared, her voice stronger. “For Eret, for Foolish, for Charlie.”

Niki raised her fist, motivation coursing through her body. “FOR EVERYONE TRAPPED IN THIS WORLD OF LITTLE NIGHTMARES!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ________________________________
> 
> Gonna take a little break after this for a short while, I just wrote three chapters in the span of a week holy cow that's a new record. It was hard writing this one, not going to lie.
> 
> Anyways new character, and some more dead people, how'd ya like that?


End file.
